


Love, Fate and Destiny

by lost_spook



Series: 50 Ficlets - Claim Kenny Phillips, Press Gang [18]
Category: Press Gang
Genre: Community - 50ficlets, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-04
Updated: 2010-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-13 12:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stars collide and Kenny runs into his Wrong Number, but as usual the universe hasn’t finished with him yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Fate and Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 50ficlets prompt 'Lost and Found'.
> 
> Set between S3/4. Refs to S2 ep ‘Love and the Junior Gazette’ and S3 ep ‘Chance Is A Fine Thing’.

_Lynda: “Oh, right, yeah. The girl in Dublin.” [To the waitress] “He fell in love with a wrong number!”  
Kenny: “Look, I really clicked with that girl. Now, suppose I had actually found out her number, and we’d met up? It’s possible, I’m only saying possible, that we could have ended up some day together. Married, with kids, or whatever.”  
Lynda: “Some people get over a wrong number faster than this.” (S3, Chance Is A Fine Thing.)_

*

Kenny stopped at the gate on the way out of his Grandad’s house, and leant on it, heaving a sigh as he gazed down Lancress Road. Then he reminded himself he couldn’t stand around here, and set off with another sigh, nearly crashing into a passing pedestrian.

“Sorry,” he said, hastily drawing back. He looked at her again. She seemed familiar, although he couldn’t place why.

She only smiled. “That’s okay.”

The accent jolted his memory, and he grinned, recollecting a misdirected visitor from a couple of months back. There weren’t many pretty, Irish girls who knocked on his Grandad’s door. “You’re not still looking for number 2, are you? Really, it’s only a few yards down that way.”

“I did wonder if I’d taken a wrong turning,” she returned, solemnly, but with laughter in her brown eyes. “No, I made it, thanks. This is a return visit.”

He drew back, and nodded. “Right. Anyway, sorry about crashing into you.”

“No problem,” she said. “Maybe you can make up for that, and tell me what there is to do around here when you've got a couple of hours to spare?”

He thought about it. “Well, there’s a crooked lamp post down that end, and a park with vandalised swings this way, but you’ve missed the guided tour.”

“Sounds amazing,” she said, and then gave a rueful look. “I should have stayed there, but it was a funeral, you see -.”

He coloured instantly, for having joked. He’d seen the hearse go down the road earlier. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” she said. “I only met her once, last time I was over, so I was a bit – it was awkward, you know? Except now I’ve got nowhere to go.”

Kenny thought about offering to take her to Czars, but it would be a bit much from a strange guy, wouldn’t it? “You’re from Ireland?”

“Dublin,” she said. “It’s the accent, isn’t it? Dead giveaway every time.”

He leant back against the low wall of his Grandad’s front garden. No wonder she sounded familiar. Yes, it was the accent, so like the girl he’d fallen for once upon a BT error. “Yeah,” he said. “I know someone from Dublin. Well, not know as such. More happened to speak to once. A good once, though.”

“Oh?” she returned, giving him a quizzical smile.

Kenny grinned. “Yeah. Sorry. I mean, unless you happen to know some gorgeous-sounding girl who went out with a good-looking, two-timing rat called Michael-.”

She stared back at him. He could have sworn she’d paled.

He reviewed his sentence, and grimaced. “That doesn’t sound too weird, does it? Look, it was BT’s fault. I got misrouted and then they went and fixed the problem before I could get her number. I was only looking for my -.”

“Aunt Rachel?” she cut in, sounding dazed.

His jaw dropped. “How did you know that?”

“Last year, I had a wrong number,” she said, suddenly amused again, as she registered his complete incomprehension. “Some guy wanting his Aunt Rachel, but he seemed kind of nice, you know, especially after Michael.”

Kenny was glad he was leaning against the wall. “Hello, Dublin?” he tried, with a nervous grin.

“There aren’t TV cameras, are there?” she asked, moving nearer. “Because this can’t be true. It must be a trick. Did my friends put you up to this?”

“No, it’s Fate,” he told her. “Or Destiny. Definitely.”

“It’s impossible.”

Kenny thought about something else, and couldn’t keep back a grin. “You told your friends about me?”

“Maybe,” she said, colouring. “I expect I told them what a rat you were. I waited hours by the phone, and _neither_ of you called!”

He shut the gate behind him properly now. “In that case,” he said, “fate, and destiny, and my reputation as an all-round nice guy impel me to offer to buy you coffee. How does that sound?”

“It sounds nice.” She was laughing at him, as she tried to keep the wind from blowing her long, wavy auburn hair over her face, but only in a good way. “Do you have a name, or shall I keep calling you ‘Aunt Rachel’?”

“Kenny.”

She laughed again. “Really?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” she said, the laughter still in her face. “I’m Kelly.”

He couldn’t think now if he’d had an image of what his Wrong Number looked like. If he had, it was gone forever, because she was just… _perfect_. She was everything he could have wanted her to be, and she didn’t seem to be running away from him in disgust, either. Not yet, anyway. So, Destiny was at work, and he’d found her, and she was perfect, and now he was lost, and in some sort of hell.

It was his own fault. You couldn’t fault the universe. It had brought her to his door once, so you couldn’t blame Fate if it thought he was ungrateful and wanted to slap him round the face.

She threw him a curious glance at his silence. “Maybe we’d better exchange telephone numbers now? In case one of us vanishes.”

He closed his eyes, and said it: “I can’t. You see, I’m moving to Australia.”

“Australia?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”


End file.
